Blue Amazonians
by Retsof
Summary: An alternate history, where the continent of South America develops a typical Pandoran biosphere -minus the poison atmosphere.  Follows several perspectives, from the 1500's to the modern day.
1. Chapter 1

_So here's the deal. None of this is mine; all I will be doing is some spelling and grammatical corrections. This is all from a thread on Alternate History dot org that became truly epic. I will include the names of the posters with their posts. You may miss some background information depending on how much I want to sift through the chatter between story posts. Well, without further ado…_

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><p><strong>Mr. Shine<strong>

**Draft Timeline.**

**August 1498**:

Christopher Columbus encounters a group of Arawak Indians on Tobago, having sailed away from Trinidad after his men reputedly began hearing strange cries in the night. The natives treat the newcomers warily but choose to try to warn them. They present Columbus and his crew with the skin of some sort of huge flying animal, mottled green, blue and black; and then show him a primitive bow and a set of three arrows, each far too large for a man to use (except as a siege weapon). They tell stories of flying giants that once strayed too far from Trinidad and drowned in the sea.

Columbus initially dismisses this as fanciful heathenry, but takes both the skin and bow and arrows back to Spain after... _difficult _negotiations.

**Early 1500s**:

Portuguese ships discover the eastern coastline of a large continent south of Trinidad. Early forays onto the coast bring back reports of huge trees, fierce beasts and fantastic plants and animals unlike anything else known. The animal life accounts for many fatalities but the prospect of turning even a few of the local resources into items of fantastic luxury prove too enticing. Logging, trapping and plant harvesting begin amid a climate of extreme danger.

Until the day that male stupidity ruined it all.

It had been considered curious that no Indians had been encountered, but the Portuguese entrepreneurs counted it as a blessing and a curse: less trouble but also less exploitable labor. A logging crew on the way to clear a new patch of forest encounters a group of female... _creatures_. They are blue, they have tails and are nine feet tall… but they otherwise look much the same as Indian women.

They are also bathing in a stream.

The men get _ideas_.

The gangling crew barely gets an opportunity to try to mob the group of women when a great arrow sails out of the trees, answering the women's screams and neatly impaling one of the lead men through the chest. The women take advantage of the shock to grab for their knives, sword-sized skeletal claws of some great bird, and the first blow cleanly cleaves another mans' skull down the middle. The terrified men begin to flee, arrows claiming more of their number as they try to get back to the river and the logging camp.

None of them make it.

The next day, screaming blue warriors riding dragon-things descend on the camp, impaling men on arrows like pigs on spits while others on giant, six-legged horses finnish off the survivors with their daggers.

News of the attack never reaches Portugal.

**Late 1519**:

Arriving in Tenochtitlan, Hernan Cortes hears more stories of giants to the far south. Asking the Aztec Emperor of this, the only reply he gets that a land of Gods and Demons lies there, though a translation error renders it as "Land of God and Demons".

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><p><em>The following is background chatter<em>

* * *

><p><strong>Mr. Shine<strong>

**I've done some thinking...**

And based on what I know of South American Geography (climate and Geography are the same as OTL abut the biosphere is Pandoran), I can divide the Na'vi clans into four or five "cultures".

1. Classic "Omaticaya" type forest dwellers in the jungles of the Amazon and Orinoco Basins. Clan settlements are based on large Hometrees which, depending on their age and size, form either the center or the entirety of the groups living and ceremonial space.

2. Semi-nomadic hunter-horticulturalists in the Atlantic forests. Settlements are based in communal dwellings built from trees cleared during horticulture (which focuses more on nurturing orchards producing sweet or starchy fruit than root crops). Like the Basin dwellers, Ikran and "direhorses" are important components in the local culture. The first European contact is believed to have been with one of these clans, specifically the "Red Shell" group (need a name in Na'vi)

3. (more of a subgroup) Nomads who inhabit the semi-arid palm scrub in the Northeast of OTL Brazil. Like the Amazonians and coastals, "direhorses" (Pa'li) are extremely important, but instead of bonding with Ikran, hunters bond with Thanators (Palulukan) for the advantages in hunting the local Hammerhead herds. They seem to a collection of smaller clans who have been pushed out of the forests after losing various clan conflicts over territory. However, the Ten Quills clan does hold guardianship over one of the three northern Soul Trees. In more peaceful years, they are able to move into the greener scrub to the east.

4. The "Horse Clans of the Plains". Much like the northern nomads, but more so, covering much of the OTL Argentine flatlands. This culture places a strong emphasis on the herds of the pampas, the hunt, Pa'li and mounted archery as well as personal bravery in inter-clan conflict and horse-raiding. Settlements are based around tall, spindly plants that possess water-retaining complex root systems as well as nectar-wells for the Pa'li. Unlike the scrub-dwellers, Palulukan are not bonded with, but are still important totemic animals based on their general badassery. Spiritual life is based around the continents one southern Soul Tree.

5. The "Stone-layers" of the Andes. Arguably the most advanced of all the Na'vi cultures; they practice extensive horticulture by nurturing food plants on artificial terraces on mountainsides, introducing plants to otherwise barren locations. As opposed to the monotheistic shamanism that characterizes most of the continent, many small sub-cults are formed around different aspects of nature. Also, there seems to be a primitive form of a written language in braided cordage. Both can be attributed to the relative distance of the nearest Tree of Souls (located on the eastern foothills of the Andes in the mountain forests of OTL Eastern Peru) from the main centers of confederated clan politics. An "Inca-analogue" if you will", though with heavy use of sure-footed draft-animals (including mountain Pa'li) and Ikran, with the largest rookeries located in the high Andes and the floating mountains that accompany them.

P.S. Thread Bump.

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><p><em>Story<em>

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><p><strong>Ephraim Ben Raphael<strong>

June, 5, 1532 Anno Domini  
>Just Outside the French Colony of New Marseilles<p>

An arrow shot past Bertrand d'Ornesan , nearly taking his arm with it and he barely kept himself from flinching. _This was going to work _he thought. So far the _bleus _had beaten any European forces they came in contact with. But today that was all going to change. The Portuguese and Spanish had tried to fight _les bleus _as they would have a human army, meeting them head on in a battle line. The _bleus_ (d'Ornesan neither knew or cared whether they were demons or simply animals) had simply cut the Portuguese to shreds with their devastatingly effective archery before charging and using their great bulk and the bulk of their mounts to smash the humans who remained. And that had been the end of the colony of Sao Vicente and the Spanish settlement of Rio de la Plata. The only remaining Portuguese outpost on the mainland of Vespucciland ; Pernambuco, survived by virtue of constant reinforcements from the Old World and staggering losses to the _bleus _and the monsters in the surrounding jungle.

But dye from the false-cycads sold for equal weight in silver back in Europe and cloth made from the _pateboule _trees was more valuable than silk. Not to mention the skins and heads of monsters, though far more difficult to get, were just as valuable. Which was why d'Ornesan had been sent, to get France a piece of what might prove a very lucrative pie. The colony of New Marseilles was just up the coast from Pernambuco; in theory so the two European settlements could help each other out, something that happened very rarely in practice. Though an admiral by training, d'Ornesan had taken to land warfare quickly, and had spent the past few months trying to figure out how to use the heavily armed troops he'd been given. After 3 skirmishes (not counting raids and ambushes on his men) that had ended worse for him he finally had an idea of his foe's tactics and a plan.

They were currently on one of the small flat-topped hills a short distance inland, the increased altitude hopefully mitigating some of the range of the _bleus_ archery. Rather than make the same mistakes as the Portuguese and the Spanish, the French soldiers were spread out and hidden behind a mound of dirt piled for shelter. There was no cavalry, as horses, in addition to being slower and smaller than the_terriblescheval_ the natives rode, were terrified of the native beasts and the almost supernatural control (indeed it might be supernatural) the natives had over their mounts made cavalry worse than useless. D'Ornesan had a few archers returning fire but that was just to keep up morale, they had no chance of hitting anything. In front of the archers was a line of French pikemen, crouching as low as possible to avoid taking any more casualties. In addition there were about 90 arquebusers, their weapons had a short range and were impossible to fire accurately, but the sound of gunpowder seemed to be the only thing capable of spooking the _terriblescheval_. So far this battle was like the last 3, the _bleus _would fire volleys of arrows and then their mounted warriors would charge.

The arrow fire slackened and the Admiral called out to his men; "Etre Prepare!" There was a pounding sound as if a thousand drums were sounding at once. D'Ornesan could see the enemy advancing as they charged up the slope. They continued to fire as they charged, and there were groans from wounded pikemen. _Just a little closer_… "Pour dieu et le roi!" He cried out the signal. Immediately the pikes leapt to the side. They had taken heavy losses but it would worth it if d'Ornesan could pull this off. It had taken a great deal of effort to move the two cannon into position, but now as they spoke it paid off. The grapeshot plowed into the advancing riders and the charge staggered. At his signal the arquebusers rose and fired. You get enough arquebusers together and you're bound to hit something. More of the enemy fell, but still they came on. The French archers fired two volleys before the cannon were reloaded. This time when the smoke cleared it showed only fleeing mounts and maybe half a dozen _bleus _running as quickly as they could. One rider, his mount crippled, crashed into the pikes and lay still. Beyond the _bleus _foot stared in shock then started to pull out.

D'Ornesan had lost a third of his men but it was still the greatest success any European force had experienced so far. "Strip the bodies of their weapons and skin the dead mounts." He instructed. "We can send it back to France." His mean cheered but their cheers ceased still born when the rider that had made it to the pikes groaned. One archer almost finished it off, but d'Ornesan stopped him. "Take it prisoner. We can give it to the priests to study." He sent his clerk, Jean de la Vega, to find chains.

I need European names for stuff!

_bleus-_ Na'vi Any ideas for a better European nickname?  
>falsecycads- Pseudocycas altissima<br>_pateboule- _Obesus rotundus (puffball tree)  
><em>terriblescheva- <em>direhorses

So what do you think? I figure the Portugese control the Fernando de Noronha islands and maybe there's a Spanish colony in the Falklands(or whatever their ATL name is). I am more than willing to make changes or throw this out entirely if you guys don't like it.

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><p><em>The chatter here discussed the possible religious implications and reception of the Na'vi, I thought you would be a bit lost here if I didn't explain that.<em>

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><p><strong>Ephraim Ben Raphael<strong>

January 9th, 2010 06:38 PM

June 7, 1531  
>Pernambuco, Portuguese Brazil<p>

"There can be no doubt," Father Manuel de Nobrega told his colleague, "that these creatures are not the work of god and therefore must be the work of the devil." "But does the devil have that much power?" Father Jose de Anchieta wondered out loud. "No, of course not!" Nobrega gestured to the Amazonian chained before them. "Do you not see how the beast resembles man? Yet its size, the coloring of its skin, that it has four fingers rather than five, the clearly demonic tail, speak it otherwise. The devil cannot create new species, but he can twist those already existing for his benefit, hence the altered horses and other beasts he has marked with six limbs, six being the sign of his evil. Whatever ancestors of this creature were men, having given their souls to darkness, were mated to demonesses so to create the bastardized offspring before us. Let us not pity them for they deserved their fate." The being in question had been staring malevolently at the two priests ever since being brought from the French vessel and now closed its eyes arrogantly. Anchieta considered. "Perhaps if they are descended from men they can be saved? It would be a shame if so many souls were lost…" Nobrega dismissed this line of thought. "They are too far gone. It cannot be denied that christ died for humanity and if this is not human then all of our efforts would avail to nothing." "At least allow it to be studied." That was the Frenchman de la Vega speaking. "Admiral d'Ornesan wants to find out if we can learn its language. The _bleus _might provide a possible source of labor if we can learn to understand them." "Language? The grunting of animals." Nobrega dismissed the possibility and left.

"I think that I will attempt to examine the creature." Anchieta told de la Vega. "If nothing else I might learn invaluable knowledge about Lucifer's stratagems." He approached the Amazonian. How human it looked! It was studying him as well, the Jesuit realized. There was no anger in its gaze now, but rather…curiosity. _"Peu nga pe?"_ It said. Anchieta shook his head to indicate that he did not understand. "What are you?" He asked the Amazonian. "What are you?

* * *

><p><strong>Mr Shine<strong>

**Here's what I have,**

June 5, 1532 Anno Domini  
>24 Miles from the French Colony of New Marseilles<p>

The male Palulukan sniffed and prodded the carapace with its tongue, hoping to find some small morsel of gristle that the Hunters may have missed when they had butchered this Hammerhead calf three days ago. At its flank, a child sat practicing her cord-making with a length of palm leaf. To its far left, a mother sat with her baby, alternately scraping the calf's hide and nursing her infant. And All around the beast, the palm huts of the _Ean Telem_, the Clan of the Blue Cord, hummed with the everyday tasks of survival and Life.

But the news to come spoke mostly of death.

Clan warriors rose into sight, leading lone _Pa'li_by their tendrils while archers on foot straggled behind them. The Palulukan raised its head from the shell long enough to realize that something was wrong. Fewer hunters were returning than had left, and most of these horses he recognized; all the new horses that came back from raids smelled strange, he was smart enough to realize that.

He knew these horses... he'd dreamed of eating a few of them...

And their hunters were not riding them!

The Clan Leader emerged from one of the larger huts, and he too immediately knew that something was wrong. He stalked toward a hunter that was dismounting his _Pa'li_. _"Where are the others? What happened when you attacked the Small Ones?"_

The Hunter was... still in a daze, as if his entire world had just been shaken. "_I... don't understand it._" He tried to explain to his leader. _"When we charged, they had some... new kind of weapon. Terrible noise, like the whole world had cracked in two. Smoke that smelled worse than from any fire. Something must have hit us, __many__ small thing_s." The rider cast his eyes down. "_We've heard these things before... but never like this_. " His eyes now travelled to the wound on his side, a glancing blow from a piece of grapeshot, but bleeding all the same.

Now another person approached the returning party. A young adult female wearing the blue threads in her braids that signaled all of her clans mated adults. _"What happened?"_she asked as she looked over the returning party.

"_Mii'kali and his band were routed... some had to be left behind._" Said the Leader. Captures and deaths were not unheard of in raids, but hostages could be bartered back and burial was a communal event between clans to bring (or force) a peace.

"_Where is my mate?_" The young woman demanded of the returned hunter. He didn't answer, but his gaze travelled ever to the ground.

The woman's next sounds were not really words, they were more anguished, grief-stricken screams. She did not collapse, but instead blindly ran to one of the huts and ingressed, exiting with a bow, a carapace knife and began running for one of the unused Pa'li. She was about to ride out toward the human settlement before the Clan Leader got between her and that general direction. _"What are you doing?_" the Leader demanded, strongly but more calmly than she had been.

"_I am going to retrieve my Mate. Whether he's dead or merely captive, I will make sure that the Short Ones return him!_" She was angry, but her anger could prove her doom.

"_Are you insane, woman! See for yourself what their weapons did to seasoned hunters..._" Another of the mounted warriors spoke up, dismounting his horse before the female interrupted him angrily.

"_Do you think I am not a hunter, is that it? I was hunting just as long as you before Tyyn Sa and I were bonded!_" The woman, Ey've, was very angry, and may have been beginning to let her grief overtake her before the clan patriarch spoke up again.

"_ENOUGH!_" The Leader bellowed before looking back up at the woman. "_You cannot go against the newcomers_." He thought hard on something. "_You __will__ ride... but it will be to inform the Clan of the Ten Quills of this development. If they can rout us, than the other clans are also at risk_." He began stalking towards the Palulukan, linking his queue to a neural whip and mounting the beast. "_And I will come with you. We have fought in the past and they may not wish to assist those who have been enemies... but if I am there, than they will, at least, know that our warning as sincere._"

Some of the women were able to finally move the hammerhead calf carapace away to be worked on as the Pa'li carrying Ey've and the Clan Leader on the Palulukan began loping westward toward the dry scrub that contained the Clan of Ten Quills and one of the most sacred sites in their world.

(ooc: I sort of made the names slightly symbolic, as to provide friction during the translation)

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><p><em>Well, that's all I feel like transcribing right now. Until next time…<em>


	2. Chapter 2

_Note: Wow, where'd all the punctuation in the summary go? Not the best first impression._

_Now, some of the reviewers seem a bit confused. Remember that I am basically doing a glorified copy/paste, and should receive no credit for this. Also, the notes in the middle are meant to clarify things or provide information without including every post on the forum. You should also be informed that this is a rather old story, so although I have enough to keep going for quite a while, nothing you say can actually effect it._

* * *

><p><strong>Ephraim Ben Raphael<strong>

**June 16, 1531**  
><strong>New Marseilles, French Vespucciland<strong>

Bertrand d'Ornesan labored over a report destined for Paris. The _Bleus _had been quiet for the past week, a fact which made him more than suspicious. It was possible that the effect of his cannon had impressed the natives into avoiding them. Possible but not likely. In the meantime there were two more shipments of goods heading back to France and he needed to finish his report if it was to leave with one of them.

There was a knock on his door, and the admiral spoke up without lifting his eyes from the parchment. "Enter." "My lord admiral, I am here to report on the prisoner and what headway we've made in learning his language." "Ah, De la Vega, you have made progress I trust?"

His chief aide, De la Vega was a former Spaniard who had immigrated a number of years before and changed his name from Jose to Jean, upon taking the admiral's service. "As you commanded _monsieur_, I have been co-operating with the Portuguese priest Jose de Anchieta in studying _Tyyn Sa_," De la Vega coughed, embarrassed, "that being the name he has given us."

"So you have learned it…his…language?"

"Anchieta more than me, but I can make my way if I try. The difficulty is not the words themselves, but the grammar. It resembles no human tongue."

D'Ornesan nodded in satisfaction. "And will his people (the Frenchman failed to notice his unconscious shift from thinking of the _Bleus _as animals to people) be willing to sell some land to us?"

De la Vega shifted uncomfortably. He held a great affection for the admiral, but he could not help but sympathize with the captive native; helpless in terms of his fate, his people facing the onslaught of Christian Europe. "I do not know. He says he cannot speak for his clan, but _Tyyn Sa_ does tell us that his people, the _Na'vi, _he called them, have never suffered such a defeat at the hands of _Faketuan, _his word for men. They may be amenable."

The admiral smiled. If all went as planned then he might just be able to establish the first successful European colony on the shores of Vespucciland. "Go back to Pernambuco," he told his aide. "I want you to learn everything that you can about the…the _Na'vi." _D'Ornesan's tongue stumbled over the unfamiliar word. "I doubt we have the military might to drive them out of their jungle, but with the right agreements, France may have a colony never the less."

Same Day  
>Pernambuco, Portuguese Vespucciland<p>

"But that makes no sense!" Anchieta said (or tried to say) to the Amazonian in his fledgling _Na'vi_. "A question is a question, is a question, why have different words to indicate such, why even have words at the end of a sentence to indicate a question at all? You language is mad!"

Judging from the way Tyyn Sa winced, his fledgling was still far from taking flight. "It be your _língua_ that is mad, each word having so many types for doing, I be unable to remember all. But for a question yes or no are _srak_at the end of the sentence and for more…more…"

"Knowledge?" The Jesuit prompted. Tyyn Sa's Portuguese was understandable, yes, but particularly when it came to _ser _it tended to grate the ear of someone who had grown up speaking the tongue. "Yes knowledge,_ conhecimento, _one places _pe _at the beginning of the…the words-for-asking."

Over the past 9 days Anchieta had struck up what was almost, but not quite a friendship with the Amazonian. He was beginning to believe more and more that Tyyn Sa had some sort of a soul, regardless of any devilish origin. But that might merely be satanic trickery.

Tyyn Sa often seemed rather disparaging of men, he looked down on them and could alternate between boasts of how the _Na'vi _would drive the colonists into the sea, to condemning them for using _fire _of all things… But other times he wondered at the iron and metal of the Portuguese or at the brightly coloured cloth they used in clothing. He trusted Anchieta enough to let him bandage his wounds and had also become quite willing to speak to the Frenchman de la Vega, despite the man's slow grasp of his language.

In fact it had been De la Vega who learned that surprisingly the Amazonians believed in one god. A female god to be sure, and they knew of no resurrection, but the Jews referred to god as feminine from time to time and if the Amazonians they were as close as Jews or even merely Moors, then Tyyn Sa might still be saved.

"I suppose we both find our tongues equally as incomprehensible." Anchieta agreed. "It is not as speech is in my _kelku, _my home. Many tongues there are so close as to be mated!" For some reason this seemed to depress the Amazonian. Tyyn Sa's expression grew slack and he turned his eyes from the priest as he did when troubled.

"Did I give insult?" Anchieta asked, slipping back into Portuguese from worry. "I beg your pardon if it be so, I am still ignorant of your ways." "It is not you." The Amazonian replied in his native tongue. "I have a mate, the most beautiful woman anywhere, and my _tsahaylu _longs for her. When will your _olo'eyktan_ order my release?_ Will_he order my release?"

Anchieta swallowed a lump in his throat, knowing that most likely the…the _person_ in front of him would never survive to see his wife again. "Soon." He lied. "Soon."

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><p><strong>Mr Shine<strong>

I've thought about it, and the arrows of the Atlantic Tribes and the Nomads of the interior do not seem to be poisoned.

However, I am saying now that even among the Na'vi, venturing into the river jungles without being invited is tantamount to a death-wish. Visibility is low in the understory, small predators and carnivorous plants are much more numerous, jungle cliffs and hidden sinkholes are constant hazards and then there is the question of the local clans.

One of their neurotoxin-coated arrowheads can kill an adult Na'vi in the course of a few hours, first affecting their queue and their connection to the local wildlife before moving to claim their physical senses, their locomotive functions, their breathing and then their very brain-tissue. An antidote salve must be applied in the first thirty minutes to facilitate recovery and healing, but a human is stone dead in 60 seconds, so there is no point.

Just a little pondering and world-building on my part.

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><p><em>Note: Maps posted here, a question is posed on the distribution of the Na'vi.<em>

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><p><strong>Mr Shine<strong>

**Well...**

The clan territories are roughly circular, 50 km in radius out from the central settlement in the Hometree. Each clan numbers roughly 100-300 members strong, mostly depending on the ability of the local jungle to support the resident numbers and the size of their _Kelutral_.

Even by Na'vi standards, these "Tree-Sleepers" are strange and insular. By the late 19th century, most of the other culture groups have absorbed bits and pieces of Human culture and technology, but the river basin Clans remain a closed book, allowing only scholars and Catholic Priests based on the ancient treaty.

(Plus... I may be a little biased in giving them almost the entirety of both jungle regions, seeing as that culture was focused on in the movie. But they will not be touched upon until much later, with only a cameo appearance or two in this series)

* * *

><p><strong>Mr Shine<strong>

(ooc: everything is in Na'vi since I got sick of italicizing)

**June 17, 1531**  
><strong>70 Miles from New Marseilles<strong>  
><strong>Camp of the Ten Quills Clan<strong>

Ey've had been here for ten days and in all that time, no progress had been made at all! Her _Olo'eyktan_ had been making his case before the Ten Quills Clan: their Leader, their _Tsahik _and their elders... and still they refused to see any danger to themselves or any reason to become involved.

As she again took her seat among the gathered participants after completing her morning chores, she began to reflect on why they would be so hesitant. Two generations ago, the Blue Cord clan had tried to push their territory inland, had even tried to capture the _Vitraya Ramunong_ in its sacred hollow. The Blue Cord had been stronger then, and that strength had bred hubris and a want for more territory. In defense of the Tree of Souls, the Ten Quills had made alliance with the Tall Palm clan to the south to beat them back by force of superior numbers and a larger corps of _Palulukan Makto_. Something like that bred long-term animosity... animosity that still had not totally bled away.

"Four attacks! Four major attacks upon the _Faketuan_ in only two moons! Did you not think that they would adapt their strategy?" This was the _Olo'eyktan_of the Ten Quills, so named for their large numbers of bonded Palulukan and the quills of dead ones that high-ranking hunters wore in their hair. "It is the opinion of this council that these invaders bringing your hubris back down to earth is not necessarily a bad thing. Why should we care about your defeat?"

"It is not the fact of our defeat that should worry you." Replied the Leader of the Blue Cord. "It has been twelve days since the battle. Twelve days and no barter demands for the return of our wounded or a call to burial has come forth. These _Faketuan_obviously do not think the way we do... and it is acceptable practice that if exchange of captives or casualties is not forthcoming, a raid to retrieve our brothers can be undertaken."

Ey've perked up, as such a thing was what she had attempted upon hearing of Tyyn Sa's fate.

But would they?

"Your plan is a rash one. Do you intend to involve us in a raid after telling us of the weapons they have? Surely you must see that this attack..." The Leader of the Ten Quills Clan was interrupted as his Blue Cord counterpart spoke in response.

"But you yourself said that these weapons were called forth under the cover of piles of dirt on a hill. A small, mobile party of warriors might be able to infiltrate their Kelku, their… _colony._" The word was alien, but that did not concern Ey've.

All that mattered was that even if they accepted the plan, the organization of such a raid would take another week at the very least.

* * *

><p><strong>Ephraim Ben Raphael<strong>

**June 20, 1531**  
><strong>Pernambuco, Portuguese Vespucciland<strong>

"What sort of metal, this?" Tyyn Sa asked, pointing to the gold crucifix that De la Vega wore around his neck. They were inside the mud-brick cabin that served as an impromptu prison for the Na'vi. As one of the strongest buildings in the colony it was thought to be the best suited to hold him, but the string chains made sure that Tyyn Sa couldn't make it as far as the door without being brought up short. And the chain failing, the ten armed guards outside would not hesitate to shoot him.

"Gold." De la Vega answered. "It is one of the reasons why we left our _kelku_. The traders left for gold, the warriors for glory, and priests like Anchieta for god." The clever rhyme was lost in Na'vi, but that was well enough.

"And why have you come to here?" Tyyn Sa looked at him consideringly.  
>For a very brief moment De la Vega considered telling the Na'vi why he was really here, but a lifetime's practice at holding his tongue crushed the thought and substituted a half-truth. "I am<em> tsampongu<em> in service of _Eyktan _D'Ornesan. I am a warrior."

There was short pause before Tyyn Sa spoke. "I believe I have seen the metal before, if not in the same shape. There is a place near our encampment where small yellow stones are sometimes found. You value this gold, yes?"

De la Vega considered before replying. If there truly was gold nearby then however long the war took it would find its way into the hands of the European powers. "That we do."

"Then if I take you there, show where it is found, you will release me?"

"It is not for me to say. But I think so."

As De la Vega left he cursed himself for the lie. It reminded him of a day very long ago in the small town of Pasajes when a lie much like that one had cost him everything. His fists clenched involuntarily and he went to find Anchieta.

* * *

><p><em>Note: Quite a lot of chatter here, possible development and evolution of the continent is discussed, as well as the effects this timeline may have farther on. <em>

* * *

><p><strong>Mr Shine<strong>

**June 24th 1531**  
><strong>22 Miles from New Marseilles<strong>

Evening

From the way that both clan leaders had described their goal, this raid had to be quick, clean and silent. Use your bows only if necessary, your knives likewise and if at all possible, wring their _Faketuan_necks like fowl.

Ey've, on the other hand, would have preferred to be thorough, bloody and to send a message.

However, speed and silence were going to be essential in retrieving Tyyn Sa... or what was left of him. She and her leader had returned to the Blue Cord camp, by Pa'li and Palulukan, with several Ten Quill warriors in tow. _Then_they had dismounted and proceeded on with several Blue Cord, including Mi'kali, towards the nearer Faketuan Kelku.

They had not gone more than a few miles out from the camp when Mi'kali signaled a stop and urged them to stay low. Ey've scuttled to the front into a position beside Mi'kali, and what she saw through the small trees swelled her heart.

There was Tyyn Sa, his hands bound and what appeared to be several heavy cords leashed around his neck. In front and behind were armored men in breastplates and helms of shining... _Me'tal_, was it? Some had bows and spears while others had what seemed to be short, thick staves. Beside her mate were two Faketuan in drab clothing. And this land... all short drops and tree-filled gullies, perfect to attempt an escape.

Even as the party made to track the humans in the dying light, Ey've could not help but admire her mates' ability to endure... it must have been better than hers, anyway.

* * *

><p><em>And there are your two forum pages for the day<em>.


	3. Chapter 3

_Hi all, sorry if I discouraged reviews with my rather gruff tone in the last note. Some of you may like to know, however, that the original author of this is keeping an eye on it and your reviews. Also, sorry for the wait, I was a bit short on time the last couple days._

* * *

><p><strong>Mr Shine<strong>

**Close Encounters of the Messy kind.**

**Night, June 24th, 1531**

**4 Miles from the Blue Cord Encampment.**

Jose de Anchieta fingered the beads from the rosary wrapped around his wrist. This place... during the day it almost resembled the scrub common along the Mediterranean coast. But night brought out colours and light that resembled nothing he had never seen before.

Not that anyone else was noticing... besides Tyyn Sa. De la Vega was writing in his little book, the armed men were alternately keeping watch for Amazonians, predators or large herd animals. Tyyn Sa was watching the bush closely, is eyes tracking everything. But what was he looking for: familiar landmarks, an escape route, signs that his fellows were coming for him? Was he wondering what his family was doing?

Whatever it was, it was coming straight at them.

One of the guards spotted something by the way a glowing leaf had moved. And then another spotted the same thing... in the opposite direction. Men scrambled for crossbows and halberds or to draw their swords, but the first one to reach for a gun, a poor soul from Southern Portugal, got his neck pierced by a very large arrow.

Then they began to attack, lithe blue figures charging into the light of the fire. Two men fell before they could even attack, as long arms grabbed their heads and summarily broke their necks. Five men lost short-lived duels, being finished off with clubs or knives made of bone.

When the sixth man leapt to attack his target... Anchieta didn't know why, but Tyyn Sa swept that man's legs out from under him with his tail and suddenly (and with terrifying ferocity) hoisted high a rock he had been fingering beside where he sat and brought it down on his victims head.

Then it was over. Six men were dead, two were kneeling in desperate prayer (and one had probably soiled himself from the smell), Himself and de la Vega were looking around them, terrified.

Then he saw the target of Tyyn Sa's victim: A thinner face, thinner body and certain... _aspects_on the body that led him to his conclusion.

It was the wife...a wife that was now moving toward the priest with a knife and a very angry expression.

* * *

><p><strong><span>Ephraim Ben Raphael<span>**

**Night, June 24 1531**  
><strong>4 miles from the Blue Cord Encampment<strong>

Father Jose de Anchieta had rarely been truly terrified. Frightened yes, but he could not recall the last time that he truly had feared for his life. Forcing his hands from his rosary, the priest began to silently recite the lord's prayer. _Pae nosso, que estás n'os Ceos, Santificado seja o teu Nome… _But his faith in Christ was strong and if he was to die, then he was ready.

Tyyn Sa embraced his wife, momentarily diverting her from Anchieta. They did not kiss as a human couple would after long separation but instead fingered each other's queues that all the Na'vi seemed to wear. They spoke but the Jesuit was to distracted to attend the words.

Suddenly Tyyn Sa's wife broke away. "Let us kill the demons and then return you to where you belong Mate. I have missed you too long."

Anchieta could hardly miss understanding _that.  
><em>  
>Mentally steeling himself, he stepped forward, prepared to join <em>Sao Stephen <em>and the other martyrs. "Was I wrong about you?" Astonishment was painted on the faces of the Na'vi, presumably they had never heard a human speak their tongue before. He doubted that many of them had heard a human speak _any_language before.

"Was Father Nobrega right? Are you only a demon, do you have a soul?" Anchieta's heart was beating so loudly he thought it might burst through his chest.

Tyyn Sa's wife had paused when he began speaking and now she advanced again, her features enraged. "How dare you! You are the demons! You come here, killing, taking my husband…"

"Please, Ey've. This one was kind to me when I was _spe'etu _spare him please. And this other one as well." Tyyn Sa reached forward and took her arm.

Ey've (Anchieta noted abstractly that her name fit perfectly) looked at her Mate in shock. "You would spare the _vrrtep _who captured you? After all they have done? After all they have killed?"

"They did not kill me." Tyyn Sa approached and looked down at Anchieta, a complete reverse from their positions mere minutes ago. "Tell me Anchieta, once I had shown you where the gold was, would I have been killed?"

"When we returned to camp the _Capitain _would have ordered you to be killed." The Jesuit took a deep breath. "I would have fought it with all my power, but in the end I would have failed."

* * *

><p><strong><span>Mr Shine<span>**

**Night, June 24, 1531**

**4 miles from Blue Cord encampment**

Tyyn Sa looked at the priest. Yes, technically he had been lied to... but it had been out of mercy, not malice. "Yet you expressed hope for my release." Tyyn Sa said in a surprisingly even voice.

"There had been hope... when you were worth more alive." It was now the French Spaniard, de la Vega, who spoke in his best Na'vi. "The Admiral had hoped that you could convince your clan to cede some land to the colony... for a price. You would be an important diplomat and could return... but your report of gold meant that you were only valuable until you led us to it." Jean looked away, ashamed of how little value the administrators had placed on the life of the Amazonian.

"Why should you be spared, then, after what has been done." Ey've was still angry, still unconvinced of the wisdom of letting these _Faketuan _live... but if her mate could see such wisdom, than violence could wait.

"Because peace has to begin somewhere." Anchieta spoke again, stronger in the conviction that something had to be change. "I cannot affect the minds of men... I only provide guidance for the soul and a path to God. The leaders of the colonies may not be moved... but I do have some power in some places."

Looking upon this small, pinkish-brown being, Ey've now realized that she was in the presence of a _Tsahik_... or the closest thing that the _Faketuan_had to one.

The mood was summarily broken by a series of quite hideous roars sounding out over the dark scrub.

_Palulukan_

"One of yours?" Tyyn Sa quietly asked one of the Ten Quills Warriors. The head guesture response was a definite negative. At that Tyyn Sa ordered that they move out with the survivors and that the dead be left: not only would the Palulukan be able to track them by the smell of the bodies.. but the other Blue Cord may get the wrong idea.

"Wait! I have to do something!" Anchieta knelt beside the nine bodies (including the first and last casualties) and began performing the Last Rites for these poor souls... who would hopefully be the last casualties of this stinking war.

But soon enough they were off, each man hanging onto the shoulders of a Na'vi warrior: de la Vega with Mi'kali, each soldier with a Blue Cord Hunter and the good Father... with Ey've, who had been concerned about her husband's physical state after his long imprisonment. Discussion would begin in the morning back at the Blue Cord encampment... which was 32 miles from the nearest gold deposits.

"Well you are honest." The Na'vi told him. "And you are no warrior so I will do everything in _my_ power to get my _olo'eyktan _to spare your life and that of De la Vega. But your people have come here to fight my clan (for some reason this caused several of the Na'vi to shift uncomfortably) and there is no great love between us."

Anchieta was momentarily at a loss for words. But then De la Vega spoke up. When they had been attacked the Frenchman had put his book away but since then he had merely stood there, considering the Na'vi and occasionally muttering something to himself.

"Only if the war continues." De la Vega smoothed his coat as if utterly unworried.

"Well if you leave then the war will end. But I don't think that your _olo'eyktan _will give up after having lost so many warriors."

"They will not." the Frenchman agreed. "But there are other ways to end this." Stepping forward, he gestured vigorously.

"If this war continues then maybe, you will defeat us. I don't think it likely but I acknowledge the possibility. But if you do then you will pay a price in blood far greater than that of the battle a short time before. And if you do kill us all, burn New Marseilles and Pernambuco to the ground, then more of us will come. And they will keep coming, until the Na'vi must lose."  
>The Na'vi were clearly considering his words. To Anchieta's surprise it was not Tyyn Sa but Ey've who said "What do you propose?"<p>

"Let our leaders meet. If you agree to give us the land near our colonies and we agree to not try to take any more then perhaps, just perhaps, a peace may be made." De la Vega was clearly in earnest.

"I cannot speak as to that." Tyyn Sa told him. "But I can bring you to our _olo'eyktan_ and it may be as you say."

* * *

><p><strong>Mr Shine<strong>

**First Words**

**June 25, 1531**  
><strong>Blue Cord Encampment<strong>

Taking a long draw of water from what was essentially a hide tube, Father Jose de Anchieta finally swallowed and looked around at the assembled... _people_.

The raiding party had arrived back at the camp late last night with the four humans. While Tyyn Sa's fellows had been boisterous at his return, the sight of de la Vega, the priest and two terrified soldiers had been met with stony stares and mutterings. Mothers had herded children woken by the commotion back to bed while three huge Palulukan had watched with one eye open from where they had been lounging. The soldiers had been secured in one unoccupied hut (after the one had been given am apron-sized loincloth and relieved of his stinking pantaloons) while the clerk and Anchieta had been housed in another.

Next moring, the Humans had been surprised when they had been released to eat. The morning meal had been the mashed flesh of a local starchy tuber, accompanied by a few, small peices of smoked flesh (Which Tyyn Sa assured him was from an Angtsik, the great hammerheaded beasts that roamed the wildeness). Having survived the night and not having been tortured or eaten, the guards were more at ease, filling their bellies and trying not to anger the local men by looking at their women.

Anchieta and de la Vega, on the other hand, were facing an entirely different situation.

"Why are you here, _Faketuan_?" Asked the Blue Cord _Olo'eyktan_. And there was that word again...

"I was sent here to study the People. My... associates were extremly interested in the stories about you, and they sent me to ascertain whether they were true." He did not deign to mention, in his best and most formal Na'vi, that the vast majority of the church hierarchy thought of them as the worst kinds of demons or fallen men.

"We have heard stories about your people as well." This was the clan's spiritual leader, their _Tsahik_, wife and mate of their leader. "The Red Shell tell that men with tree-cutting tools attacked a group of their women while they were bathing, and it was only the good aim of their sisters in the branches and their skill with knives that saved them from their fate. And our own hunters tell of the weapons used in the last battle." The Tsahik paused. "What is your purpose here, _now_?"

Anchieta closed his eyes and breathed deeply before continuing. "I am here because of the mercy of one of your hunters. Tyyn Sa spared my life so I could bring to you the idea of peace. _Only_the idea, for despite my role, I have very little earthly power. However... this war could end with only a few small exchanges."

The _Olo'eyktan_digested the last sentence. The exchanges that had ended the conflict with the Ten Quills and Tall Palm had included matings, material trade and loss of status. "Continue."

Anchieta gave the floor to de la Vega who laid out the preliminary idea in his slightly less able Na'vi. "What our leaders are interested in is land and peace. Territory to continue our gathering on and peace in order to continue carrying it out."

The assembly beside the central hearth of the camp fell into silence, awaiting the next pronouncement as their leader, his mate and various elders and senior hunters talked among themselves. Finally, the_Olo'eyktan_asked another question.

"How _much_territory are you suggesting?

Jean de la Vega replied. "For that, you would have to talk to the Admiral."


	4. Chapter 4

_Hey all, Sorry for the wait. I'm one of those horrible people that never finish what they start, so I'm afraid I'll need a periodic brick to the head to remind me to update this. Also, I will soon be working longer hours, So I may only get to this on weekends. Just keep bugging me and I'll do it though :p_

* * *

><p><strong>Ephraim Ben Raphael<strong>

**June 25 1531**  
><strong>New Marseilles, French Vespucciland<strong>

Admiral Bertrand D'Ornesan, Baron of Saint-Blanchard had thought that when he came to Vespucciland he'd seen the strangest the world had to offer. Still, he believed that however different the plants, animals, and inhabitants might be they still acted in certain predictable ways.

For instance the _bleus _were stronger and faster than any man had a right to be, but still D'Ornesan viewed them as no different from the native red-skins of the more northern continent; savages who would fight to destroy the more civilized European colonists until they were dead or subjugated. As a pragmatist the Admiral didn't know how workable killing or subjugating the _bleus _was, but he considered it his duty to try.

Until his clerk had appeared at the gates of New Marseilles riding on the back of a _terriblescheval _behind a native warrior before dismounted to come inside to give his report.

"Peace?" he said incredulously. "After what they have done to us? After what we have done to _them?"_

De la Vega shrugged. "They were impressed by our sparing the life of Tyyn Sa. The Na'vi we captured." he added. "I think they'll agree to give us the land near New Marseilles, but that won't matter; if the Na'vi agree to trade with us we can send enough _pateboule _and dies back to France to purchase half of Europe."

"If we get in early," the Admiral mused. 'then we can easily marginalize the Portuguese, maybe set the stage for annexing Pernambuco in the future."

"Exactly!" De la Vega leaned forward. "If this goes through than France might become the dominant European Power in Vespucciland!"

D'Ornesan nodded. "I will go to see what can be arranged with the _bleus _  
>chieftain. Oh and Jean," "Yes <em>Monsieur<em>?_" "_Have the smith make a couple of signet rings for the _bleus, _it won't be proper treaty without signet rings." "It shall be as you say Admiral." De la Vega bowed deeply and left.

* * *

><p><strong>Mr Shine<strong>

**July 1, 1531**  
><strong>New Marseilles, French Vespucciland<strong>

It was, perhaps, the strangest thing that any human (definitely any of the humans present) had ever seen.

Assembled outside the walls of the colonial fortress, Admiral Bertrand D'Ornesan, his staff, his troops and all the various colonists watched as Father Jose de Anchieta (Society of Jesus) marched solemnly up the road, at the head of a procession of Na'vi. Dwarfing him were the leaders of the Attendant Clans, each riding behind on a huge _Palulukan_ (otherwise known as the Lions of Death or of Hell) and each accompanied by the Clan _Tsahik_. Behind them rode Elders and Hunters on _terriblescheval_ (or as the _bleus_ called them, _Pa'li_) with individual hunters on foot positioned around the procession.

The ornaments of the bleus also grabbed at the eye. The closest analogue that the educated men could conjure up were of knights at tournament, resplendent in cords and cloth dyed, quills in their hair and tassels on their bows.

Enough to impress, but also easy enough to shed quickly for battle if things went wrong.

The day went well. Open air negotiations, translated by Anchieta and Jean de la Vega, yielded a number of rights and responsibilities toward both Parties (with the prominent announcement that Pernambuco would receive a similar offer). Finally, the final terms were read, an official Treaty written and, as a final token, the Baron of Saint-Blanchard offered a signet ring to the _Olo'eyktan_of each Clan, the Blue Cord and Ten Quills, with the motif of their clan heraldry inscribed in European style. These, in lieu of knowledge of written script, were pressed into wax upon the document to show their approval and binding commitment.

At the end of the day, however, Father Manuel de Nobrega had a great many _words_ with his fellow priest.

* * *

><p><strong>Ephraim Ben Raphael<strong>

**The Treaty of New Marseilles**

TREATY OF PEACE, FRIENDSHIP, LIMITS, AND SETTLEMENT BETWEEN  
>THE KINGDOMS OF FRANCE AND PORTUGAL, AND THE CLANS OF THE BLUE CORD AND TEN QUILLS<br>CONCLUDED AT NEW MARSEILLES JULY 1, 1531

IN THE NAME OF THE ALMIGHTY GOD

The Kingdoms of France and Portugal and the Clans of The Blue Cord and Ten Quills animated by a sincere desire to put an end to the calamities of the war which unhappily exists between the two Alliances and to establish Upon a solid basis relations of peace and friendship, which shall confer reciprocal benefits upon the peoples of all, and assure the concord, harmony, and mutual confidence wherein they should live, as good neighbors have for that purpose appointed their respective plenipotentiaries, that is to say: Bertrand D'Ornesan Baron de Saint-Blancard Admiral of the Navy of King Francis I of France and Governor of His Majesty's Colony of New Marseilles, and Don Duarte Coelho Captain of Pernambuco; and Ryt'ha Chief of the Blue Cord Na'vi, and Akwey Chief of the Ten Quills Na'vi; Who, after a reciprocal communication of their respective full powers, have, under the protection of Almighty God, the author of peace, arranged, agreed upon, and signed the following:

ARTICLE I  
>There shall be firm and universal peace between the aforementioned European Powers and the aforementioned Na'vi Clans, and between their respective countries, territories, cities, towns, and people, without exception of places or persons.<p>

ARTICLE II  
>That Territory which is visible from the steeple of the Church in New Marseilles, being a radius of 5 miles shall be recognized as the property of the Kingdom of France and in addition a region of Territory north up the coast for 10 miles additional the boundaries of which shall be set by markers and agreed upon by the Kingdom of France and the Blue Cord Clan.<p>

ARTICLE III  
>That Territory which is visible from the steeple of the Church in Pernambuco, being a radius of 5 miles shall be recognized as the property of the Kingdom of Portugal and in addition the archipelago of Fernando de Noronha lying 220 miles from the coast of Vespucciland shall be understood as belonging to Portugal.<p>

ARTICLE IV  
>The aforementioned European powers agree not to act to seize any more Territory from the Blue Cord Clan or the Ten Quills Clan and their vassals through the use of arms or to allow individual citizens from their respective Kingdoms to settle any land outside that Territory marked for their possession.<p>

ARTICLE V  
>Each of the contracting parties reserves to itself the entire right to fortify whatever point within its territory it may judge proper so to fortify for its security<p>

ARTICLE VI  
>Should a human commit a crime in Na'vi territory he or she will be subject to the justice of the nearest Clan Chief<em>. <em>Should a Na'vi commit a crime in human territory he or she will be subject to the justice of the colonial government.

ARTICLE VII  
>The aforementioned Na'vi signatories of the Treaty shall permit Jesuit priests accompanied by no more than 2 attendants access to their territory and their encampments, but they reserve the right to ban any individual priest from coming and to restrict the passing of humans to any specific areas of their choosing.<p>

ARTICLE VIII  
>The aforementioned European signatories will assure the privilege of the Na'vi peoples to enter their colonies for the purpose of mutually beneficial trade.<p>

ARTICLE IX  
>Should the unfortunate vagrancies of Fate cause a dispute to arise, it shall be settled by a meeting of the leaders of all four signatories comprising one representative from each.<p>

ARTICLE X  
>This Treaty is binding between the Kingdoms of France and Portugal and the Clans of the Blue Cord and Ten Quills and the Ten Quills vassals.<p>

ARTICLE XI  
>In faith whereof we, the respective Plenipotentiaries, have signed this treaty of peace, friendship, limits, and settlement, and have hereunto affixed our seals respectively. Done in quintuplicate, at the city of New Marseilles, on the first day of July, in the year of our Lord one thousand five hundred and thirty-one.<p>

BERTRAND D'ORNESAN  
>DUARTE COELHO<br>RYT'HA (his mark)  
>AKWEY (his mark)<p>

* * *

><p><strong>Ephraim Ben Raphael<strong>

…It cannot be denied that the Treaty of New Marseilles was in fact a great step toward peace between the Europeans and the Na'vi, but the treaty was not the…"end all" that it is sometimes said to be. For instance while Article IV prohibited the French and Portuguese from taking further territory by force of arms it was not binding to the Spanish, Dutch or British who as it would be seen would soon continue… (to) seize lands in the case of the Spanish or establish their own possessions in Vespucciland (as in) the case(s) of the British and Dutch. Furthermore the Treaty of New Marseilles did not prevent France or Portugal from _purchasing _additional territory something which would plant the seeds for future conflict…  
>-From <em>Terra Incognito: The Opening up of Vespucciland<em>  
>By Richard Ermine, Professor of Vespucciland History, University of New Dover, reprinted with permission<p>

The agreement, drawn up that day outside the walls of the first French settlement in the New World was a great beginning, but it was not a permanent solution to question of Na'vi/Old World relations. The treaty had its shortcomings particularly how much it applied to the Na'vi as a whole. Only the Blue Cord and the Ten Quills had signed it so while some clans felt themselves honor bound to uphold a pact made in their absence, some did not or acceded to only part of the treaty. This lead to a great bone of contention within the Na'vi of eastern Vespucciland(Kifkey) that, as days went on…  
>-From a lecture given by Professor Amhul Tinwya at the University of Villegaignon, July 1st 1931, 400th anniversary of the Treaty of New Marseilles<p>

* * *

><p><strong>Ephraim Ben Raphael<strong>

**July 3 1531**  
><strong>Pernambuco, Portuguese Vespucciland<strong>

It was a moment that Anchieta had been dreading.

The young priest from the Canary Islands had very nearly worshipped Nobrega when they first met and had been overjoyed when he learned that they were to go together to Vespucciland to determine the truth of the natives.

Unfortunately they differed as to what that truth was.

"What you have done, you have opened the way for the servants of the Prince of Darkness to enter and corrupt the men who come here. You have laid the path straight to Europe from here!" Nobrega shook his finger caught with fury.

"They are not demons!" Anchieta answered just as forcefully. "The men of Africa have black skins yet they deserve to saved. The men of China yellow, why should blue skin keep the Na'vi from Christ?"

"They have tails, their women dress lewdly as the daughters of Lilith and they have 8 finger on each hand! These are not men, and therefore must be Demons!"

Anchieta shook his head and did not answer. He had expected this. "Here." The younger man handed a small bound packet to his elder.

"What is this?" Nobrega was taken aback by the lack of response and studied the packet, turning it over in his hands.

"My arguments. I trust you will deliver them to the Vatican whole?"

"But, you're not accompanying me back?"

"No." Anchieta said it as forcefully as he knew how, and watched shock spread across Nobrega's face. "I am staying here. The Na'vi must be saved, and if you will not do it, then I will."

The next day a ship left Pernambuco, bound for Portugal, and eventually Italy. There was only one priest on board. In the days to come Nobrega would eventually go to New Spain and set to work converting the natives. Anchieta would someday gain the title Apostle to the Na'vi, but that came much later.

Several Months Later  
>New Marseilles, French Vespucciland<p>

"You wished to see me _monsieur_? De la Vega had been busy acting as an interpreter between a Na'vi selling dye from the pernambuco trees and a merchant who had expected to be able to cheat the Na'vi as he apparently had the red men of Atlantis, when a messenger had arrived to tell him that the Admiral wanted his presence.

As a way of answer D'Ornesan handed him a letter, its seal cracked and apparently already read. "But this is wonderful _mon amiral," _he said when he finished reading. "The King is giving you part of New Marseilles as an estate and making you a Lord! Congratulations!"

Taking the letter back, D'Ornesan shook his head. "I will refuse." he said simply.

"But...but why?" De la Vega wondered for a moment if the Admiral had lost his mind.

"Because I did not leave France and Saint-Blanchard so that I could be wealthy and gain titles. I have wealth and titles. I left because I believed it to be my duty. I will not take a new title for merely doing my duty. Besides," D'Ornesan continued, "This is a New World and I do not think it can afford the luxury of a nobility. Better my descendents should inherit Saint-Blanchard than New Marseilles be fall into the hands of a fool who happens to share my surname."

De la Vega left his audience with the Admiral trying to remember D'Ornesan's words. He might disagree, but it was something that ought to go in the book.

* * *

><p><em>Note: 5 years later...<em>

* * *

><p><strong>Mr Shine<strong>

July 1, 1536  
><span>Tree of Souls, Ten Quills territory<span>

The face of Ryt'ha, Olo'eyktan... _former_ Olo'eyktan of the _Ean Telem_, the clan of the Blue Cord, was painted with three vertical stripes of deep blue dye-paste; one dowh the line of his nose, over his mouth and between his eyes, and one each over each of his closed eyes and onto his cheeks.

He was dead.

Lain out in one of the many sheltered hollows in the grove that contained the spiritual center point of the Scrub Na'vi, his body was soon to be interred under rocks and earth. In the meantime, great ceremony had been made of passing off his worldly possessions (his bow, his knife, a wooden spear with a European iron tip, a specially made steel breastplate and his signet ring) to his son Mi'kali, his successor. Both signatory clans were present.

As the rites of passing went on, Mot Syc, _Tsahik_ of the Blue Cord and widow of Ryt'ha, reflected on just how much had changed. In the past, her mates body would have been left uncovered, becoming food for the creatures of the world _above_, instead of for those below. That had been one aspect of this new understanding with the Fak... _French_, that bodies wouls be buried and not left to the creatures that could be seen. On the other hand, funderal pyres such as those the Tall Palm built were still tolerated, if barely.

In this dry weather and this near their holy tree, she had dared not used flame on her mate's shell.

Sometimes, she thought that things were changing too fast. She had agreed with the priest Anchieta that a knowledge of symbolic script would be necessary for a better relationship, and had even worked with him in trying to construct a unique script that suited their language.

In the meantime, however, those Jesuits that were coming into their lands, seeing the Na'vi more as a grand experiment in Salvation than as Demons to be conquered, were already teaching the children (and even adults) the Latin Script along with the European _lingua_. But when it came to teaching about the Christ, who had apparently been born of a maiden with no mate, performed miracles and had... the closest that she knew to call it came from a story about the Deep Forest Clans in the West... _passed through the Eye of Eywa_ in such a fashioned that he was now worshipped in his own right... when the time came for those stories, she always observed the lessons _very carefully_.

In response, they had taken full advantage of their rights in the treaty and had closed off this grove and the surrounding lands for miles around. After hearing several of the stories of the Saints, especially that of Bonifacius, Apostle of the Germans, it had become clear that if the _Faketuan_learned of this tree, they would not rest until it was destroyed. Sometimes she thought it sad that such measures had to be taken, that they could not try to introduce these priests to it, let them experience the connection to Eywa that this grove and this tree could provide.

Even sadder that it had to be hidden from Anchieta.

Near the end of the Ceremony, the solemnity had been disturbed by the shrieks of a trio of Ikran flying high above the grove. They came from the West, but even the most casual observers could see that they were piloted, and carried goods for trade at the human colonies.

**July 1, 1536**  
><strong>New Marsielles<strong>

Jean de la Vega tried to figure in the reports for the latest shipments in and out into the ledgers, but the noise would not allow it. In the years since the treaty, this day had become something of an informal feast-day among the militia and the colonists.

Drinking and feasting dominated the day, and most trade... to be honest the trade hadn't been particularly _vibrant_ in the last few days. The _bleus_ (the phrase had become a casual descriptive outside the hearing of the Na'vi) had seemed to have gone to ground, with only small parties from further south coming to trade (including one party dragging in a pair of sun-bleached _Angtsik_skulls that the other clerks were at a loss to assess).

He silently prayed in thanks when the noise of the debauchery was interrupted by what he knew were the cries of the Ikran, along with a slightly clumsy call that signaled a willingness to trade.

Jean exited the office just as the great monsters touched down. Their riders dismounted and approached the clerk. They were clearly not one of the local clans, wearing only loincloths to conceal their shame and bedecked with strange paints and feathers... aside from arriving on quasi-draconic beasts, which were not found in the scrub.

He greeted them in Na'vi. "I welcome you to the King's Colony of New Marseilles. I assume.. that you know of the treaty?" The traders were incoherent of the first sentence, and acknowledged the second with only slightly more understanding, nodding that they understood.

Then one of them went back to his mount and unfastened something large, circular, convex and covered red cloth from the harness. "We hear of what you will give us in trade. Tell us... what can you give us for this?"

They uncovered the item... and de la Vega nearly froze in shock.

The color was unmistakable, as was the sheen. A yard across and a foot deep, covered with intricate engravings... it couldn't be what it looked like.

But the tone created by the clerk's knuckle was clear, it was serene...

It was silver. A bowl of solid, beaten silver, a yard wide and a foot deep.

The Governor had to know about this!

* * *

><p><strong>Ephraim Ben Raphael<strong>

**July 1, 1536**  
><strong>New Marseilles, Colony of New Marseilles<strong>

It could be honestly said that Bertrand d'Ornesan was the most powerful human being in the continent of Vespucciland.

The Admiral (Admiral now only by courtesy, _Governor_was his proper title, but he still thought of himself as an Admiral) was after all the man who had forged a successful colony on the hostile southern continent and was now Governor of New Marseilles and Viceroy of the King's colonies in Vespucciland.

For it was colonie_s_ now, not merely colony. The _bleus_had not been unwilling to sell portions of the coast, as nomads they made little use of it and a sufficient amount of iron arrowheads and other trade goods had spread French Vespucciland up along the coastline.

Casting about for settlers for the new territories, the King had licensed two additional colonies, one, Calvinia Colony was established by his fellow Admiral Villegaigno who gave his name to the settlement's largest town and it served as a refuge for French Huguenots. The other, New Orleans, had been founded by a joint-stock company for the purpose of making wealth and was considerable rougher than the other two settlements.

But the militia and troops in the other two colonies obeyed D'Ornesan just as well as did those in New Marseilles and since France had the most soldiers in Vespucciland he was undoubtedly the most powerful of the European governors.

At the moment the Admiral was examining a tally of the recent trade  
>goods from France. He was convinced that an unscrupulous official somewhere along the line was grafting from the cargoes and trading the stolen goods with one of the nearby clans and felt he was getting much closer to pinning down the culprit when his door opened.<p>

D'Ornesan looked up in annoyance which vanished when he recognized De la Vega. "Ah, Jean, what have for me?"

"_Monsieur _Admiral there is something you must see." Without waiting for assent (the man must be very shaken for him to neglect waiting for _that_) the Spaniard turned Frenchman waved in two laborers carrying something between them.

"_Sacre Bleu_!" The Admiral breathed. The basin would have been large for a _bleu_ but for a human it was no wonder that it took two men to carry! The silver basin was worked ornately, not as intricate as it might have been were it made by men, but finely enough to be impressive. The decorations showed a dozen _bleus _armed with spears hunting a _palulukan, _finally catching and overcoming it.

"Where did this come from?" "Two Na'vi flew in from further west with it for trade. They claimed it came from a clan to the east called the _In'ka_, who build soaring towers of stone and live in mountains so high they can gather silver from the stars; their word for silver is 'star-metal' loosely translated." De la Vega spoke with his customary precision.

"Well if these… _In'ka _can make works like this," D'Ornesan said, "Then perhaps it is time we paid the west a visit…"


	5. Chapter 5

Hello all, been a while huh? I have no excuse other than a lack of ambition. You can all thank **Random the Na'vi** for asking me to start this again.

* * *

><p><strong>Mr Shine<strong>

_July 3rd, 1536, Morning_  
><em>Blue Cord Territory, Close to the Boundary Markers<em>

The Clan continued onward to the east. A thick patch of "False Cycad" had bloomed just outside of the Colonial border and if they were going to harvest the dye from their cones, they had to start as soon as possible.

For Tyyn Sa and Ey've, much had changed these past five years. Tyyn Sa had learned some of the more common phrases in French and Portuguese, although he still felt most comfortable speaking his own language to those humans that could speak it in return. He was frequently the leader of trading-parties into new Marseilles, though his two most recent forays had been into New Orleans and Villegagnon, both much different than the clean if crowded depots of the first town.

New Orleans was much the less cordial, populated by rough and rowdy men who liked strong drink (Tyyn Sa had sampled some but with his body mass, this cheap brandy didn't even made a dent, and he hadn't understood the appeal) and "loose women" (the monogamous Na'vi did not fully understand how this prostitution thing worked, and probably did not really want to). Villegagnon had been much nicer, much more like New Marseilles... but the religious differences gave the place a taste that... Tyyn Sa could not decide whether it was confortable or not.

For Ey've, this period had been one of change... how can giving birth to one's first child not change one's perspective.

Anchieta must have meant well, but Ey've remembered that day three years ago when the priest, upon hearing of her son's birth, had asked if they would permit him to be baptized. At first she had been unsure of the significance of this ritual, though she had never had the good relationship her mate had with the priest, and had gone to Mot Syc for advice. The _Tsahik_ had warned her against it, as some of the beliefs of these newcomers were beginning to seem... _disturbing_.

As Ro'kyn now rode in front of her, she also reflected back on the death of Ryt'ha. No masses would be said in New Marseilles for the soul of a "heathen" _Olo'eyktan_, and the old leader had never made any signs that he had wanted to leave his soul, or those of his clan, in the hands of anyone else but the _Tsahik_.

When they reached the grove (also their encampment for the duration of the harvest) They found de la Vega waiting for them. Mi'kali, who had been leading on his _Palulukan_(his father's having had gone feral after his death) went forward to greet the clerk... and to ask them what it was about.

As Tyyn Sa would soon learn, he would soon be going further afield than he would ever have imagined.

* * *

><p><strong>Ephraim Ben Raphael<strong>

_July 3, 1535_

_The boundary marker between New Marseilles and the Blue Cord_

"Tyyn Sa! Good to see you again!" De la Vega greeted the Na'vi in his own tongue. "And your lovely wife!" He knew full well that Eve neither liked him nor any human but he felt it important to be polite, particularly considering what he was about to ask her husband to do.

"I am glad to see you as well, Jean." Tyyn Sa smiled and offered his hand to shake in the human manner. It was a game between the two of them that De La Vega would speak Na'vi and Tyyn Sa would speak Portuguese. "I did not expect to see you, we were coming to collect dye." He gestured to the false-cycads, trees the Portuguese called "Pernambuco" and had named their city after. "Is your _Admiral _well?"

They exchanged small talk for a few moments but at some point it was time to come down to business.

"However much I enjoy it," De La Vega said regrettably, "I fear my purpose today extends beyond myself."

Tyyn Sa furrowed his brow. "You wish for me to aid as an interpreter? There are humans, yourself included, who could do as well."

De la Vega shook his head. "The fact is that the Admiral is putting together an expedition to find the _In'ka _and we know enough of Vespucciland and its dangers to bring Na'vi guides when we go exploring. I am to offer you personally ten steel spearheads and to the Blue Cord privileged trade and the offer of all rights guaranteed to French citizens when they are on our territory."

That was a considerable deal. It was very rare that iron spear-or arrowheads were given to individuals. The European powers usually offered then to the Clans for land, something which had caused an increase in warfare over the past few years, but far greater was the offer of full rights equal to the colonists which would allow Blue Cord Na'vi to come and go as they pleased and even have the right to address the House of Burgess in Calvinia.

"You believe the stories of the _In'ka_?" Tyyn Sa sounded surprised. "I have heard them but save for the occasional piece of finely worked jewelry I have seen no proof they exist. Stories for the young, that is all."

"I don't believe stories," De la Vega stepped forward. "But I do believe in 50 pounds of worked silver sitting in the Admiral's office in New Marseilles." He related the two Na'vi fliers who had arrived with the bowl and what they had said of the _In'ka.  
><em>  
>Tyyn Sa considered. The offer was very generous and yet… "I'm sorry Jean, but I can't leave my mate. We have a son now and she missed me enough when I was under your ministrations and the care of our friend Anchieta. I do think I can go again."<p>

"You will not leave me. I will come with you."

Both her husband and De La Vega rounded on Ey've with surprise.  
>"What…" the Spaniard began but she cut him off.<p>

"I know what this means, that if you do this for the _ketuwong _they will stop looking down on us from their vantage (in Na'vi this a very clever and sarcastic witticism making fun of human height) then it is worth our time. I will go with you."

"But our…" "I will bring our son along." Ey've brooked no nonsense when she made up her mind.

De La Vega tried to adjust to this new circumstance. "Well that being settled then if you could suggest a few other…"

* * *

><p><strong>Mr Shine<strong>

_July 20, 1536_  
><em>Encampment of the Brown Bull Clan<em>  
><em>300 miles Inland from French Vespucciland<em>

The artist, a Huguenot that had enjoyed some favor in the court of Francis the 1st before having to flee religious strife, carefully sketched the form of the Brown Bull Olo'eyktan onto paper. In return for a few tokens of European favor, the clan chieftain and several of the clan hunters had agreed to pose (in full regalia) for a sketch that upon returning to Villegagnon (or somewhere else with proper paints) would be turned into proper portraits.

Around him, the other members of the expedition performed their respective tasks. Jean de la Vega was doing double duty as chronicler and as "resource scout" for the Admiral. Tyyn Sa had negotiated the safe passage through this territory, as he had through all the others, and was now asking once more about the In'ka. He recieved no new information about them besides general direction, although he discovered that a Jesuit had passed through the Territory near the end of the Wet Season before heading north into the Great River Forests.

They'd never seen him again.

Ey've was currently butchering the carcass of a _Yerik_that she and a few other women had killed out on the flatlands. They had asked about the iron knife she had used during the skinning process, and she told them, quite bluntly, that they'd be wasting their time. In only a few seasons, the cheap iron that most of the knives and blades they received were made of had the potential to rust away into uselessness if not maintained with the utmost care.

And for these things, they were giving away the right to territory, constantly moving to collect dye and puffball gossamer instead of following the movement of their prey, fighting with clans that they hadn't come in contact with in decades... Why was she helping them?

Because if she didn't, they would just keep on coming and coming and coming, drawn by the lure of wealth despite the tremendous danger. If she did, her clan, at the very least, got their respect, their goods and (hopefully) access to territory they had already signed away without the excuse of a trade mission.

Kch'Bha was playing with a few of the local children well within her line of sight, and then her thoughts again went to... well, to his future. What kind of life would he be able to lead with the humans so close? Having to hide their sacred sites from the priests, the hunt and respect for the land turning into exploitation and dependence on trade goods.

This far inland, the thoughts were distant, abstract even. But as her mind wandered back to her own Clan and their neighbors and how their lives had already been affected, she could not help but worry.

On the other hand, de la Vega was finding more and more exotic potential trade goods such as spices, woods, even reports of mineral deposits. Even Anchieta had even come, in hopes of finishing his Na'vi script project and of spreading Christianity. The first task was going very well... the second, not so much, although more and more similarities and differences were being unearthed.

* * *

><p><span>Here we have a blurb set in (or close too) the modern day of this time line.<span>

**BlackWave**

"Get a move on, ya big blue melon! Jeez, someone bring back the Seg-Act already!"

William Jenkins, although that was not his birth name, kept his head down as the lights across the road turned green. The noise, the smell, the constant business, all of this was a far cry from the borough he had grown up in, one mainly reserved for 'Bluies', as many people called them. One of the gangs in the area he was living in, Da West Side Ikranz, had been demanding money from him lately-supposedly, they found picking on humans too easy. They were clashing with the Latino gangs, so he wasn't sure.

He stepped into a coffee shop, with a sign on the front loudly declaring 'Navee welcome'-typical, even when they tried they couldn't get basic things right. Taking a place at the counter, he ordered an espresso.

"Excuse me," said a young woman sitting next to him, "but I'm doing a piece on the state of Na'vi living conditions in this city for the _Herald. _Would you mind an interview? I've been turned down so far?"

Jenkins smiled. It was LaCroix, the famous journalist.

"I'd be honored." he spoke in a typical West Side accent-even his parents sounded indistinguishable from humans in that area now.

"Is it true that some criminals, both human and Na'vi, have chosen to exploit your kind's typical social problems-drink, debt-to such a degree that these figures are seen as legitimate in your areas?"

Jenkins was aghast. Of course, there was no denying that there were problems, but if this was true, it was news to him.

"Not that I know of."

"I see. Is it also true that organ-butchers have been trying to alter both human and Na'vi so that members of both species can enjoy sexual relations with the other? Reportedly, many young female Na'vi are unable to find work other than in strip joints, both inter-species and blue-only."

His mouth fell open. "Well, if this is true, I've certainly never noticed..."

"And is it true that Na'vi political extremist groups have established cells in your neighborhood, and are behind the foiled bombing of the Lower District earlier last month?"

He stood up.

"Look, I think you may have the wrong person..." He took his espresso and headed for the door. Didn't want to listen to this no more.

"Is it true," she said, following him, "that illegal pet smuggling is..."

He flagged down a taxi-driven by a Na'vi, built for Na'vi, and got into it, finally shutting himself off from that damn journo.

"Tinys giving you shit, eh?" said the driver, wearing sunglasses and chewing on a toothpick. "Man, you won't believe the type of crap I get from their little kiddies or from their bigshots when I go down to the Financial District. Fucking Tinys, all these years and you'd think we'd get along."

"Yeah." said Jenkins, as they drove off down through the mass of traffic. "You'd think..."

* * *

><p><span>And now back to our regularly scheduled programming...<span>

**Ephraim Ben Raphael**

_July 27, 1536_

Expedition Camp, Somewhere on the Vespu Plains

The humans had insisted on a fire against the cold night, the Na'vi had objected somewhat, they needed no warmth, but Anchieta made his point and the sward for miles around was dark that night, overshadowed by the small manmade imitation of the sun.

Kch'bha whined from within the soft cloths that Ey've had wrapped him in. With the intuition that exists in mothers of all species she guessed that her child wasn't hungry, but rather wanted comfort, she picked him up and began to rock Kch'bha gently in her arms, crooning softly.

The only other sounds were that of De La Vega's pen scratching softly as he recorded the day's events and the usual noises that the pack horses made as they drifted off to sleep. In addition to the pack animals, about a dozen French soldiers had scattered bedrolls around the fire, always being careful not to go too far. In theory they were to protect the explorers, in reality everyone knew that it was the two adult Na'vi who would be keeping everyone safe.

Viperwolves (_nantang) _are very quiet when they're tracking prey but the light of their patches is one thing they can only dampen down so far. The humans would not have seen the pack slinking up to their campsite, the fire effectively destroyed their night vision, but the eyes of the Na'vi still carried vestiges of their ancestors' secondary eyes and Ey've just barely noticed light that moved in a way plants never did.

The first _nantang_was only beginning its spring when she cried the alarm, swinging Kch'bha on her back, it took only seconds to find her bow and begin to nock and loose arrows.

Tyyn Sa was with her only moments after that, the soldiers were slower but they had swords ready and swinging.  
>One of the men cried out as an opposable thumb slashed out his stomach, and the screams from the horses sounded remarkably human as the pack cut into them.<p>

The fight itself lasted less than a minute before the survivors fled, growling into the night. Three soldiers and at least half the horses were dead; De La Vega had a gash along one arm that slowly trickled blood down his side.

Still they had been remarkably lucky, even for Na'vi _nantang_were difficult to spot and they could not count on Ey've eye being so quick the next time.

The man posted as a sentry was among the slain, there would be no arguments for fires in the future.

* * *

><p><strong>Mr Shine<strong>

_August 25, 1536_  
><em>Edge of the Great Forest, 1000 Miles inland from New Marseilles<em>

The New Marseilles Expedition had endured many hardships. Rivers had been forded, rafts built and men lost. Predators had been encountered and beaten back, from Nantang to Palulukan. They had even once had to evade a great flying beast, diving into thick undergrowth in order to escape the notice of the soaring monstrosity.

But they had never experienced anything like this.

The entire remaining party (Three Na'vi, two pa'li, one Jesuit, one clerk, one artist, half a dozen soldiers and four horses) stood before a strange construction. Thin saplings had been cut and bent into a fan shape some 15 feet across and 10 feet high. Bones, feathers, natural fibers and wooden carvings hung from the tines, while wooden masked painted blue and red rested on the facing side. Behind it, the beginnings of a massive forest, in front of it, open green parkland.

The Artist, in his endless curiosity about shape, color and form, reached out to touch it, to grasp on of the objects. Tyyn Sa suddenly held him back with one great hand, then held his other hand out, asking for something he could throw. What he got was a helmet, a simple old fashioned skullcap with brim that could double as a bowl.

With an underhand toss, Tyyn Sa hefted the steel pot over the invisible line demarcated by the construction.

A Na'vi arrow came sailing out of the distant treetops, hit the helmet in midair and still maintained enough velocity to bury itself into the soil.

Relying purely on 7th hand information passed on by stories, rumors and superstition, Tyyn Sa approached the wooden structure, took a vertebrae with long processes and, holding it up for all to see, approached the helmet, picked it up, and returned it to its owner (not without replacing the bone in its place).

He never even got shot at.

Despite the danger that had just been demonstrated, the artist _knew_ he had to get this down on paper.


End file.
